The heart is such a vulnerable entity.
Lately I’ve been finding my head and my heart to be of two completely different minds, and it’s painful and confusing and I don’t know what to do with that. It’s hard to know which one is right in any given situation, which one I should listen to. People say, “Follow your heart,” but I don’t necessarily think life should be lived 100% based off of emotional urges or feelings.
I’m incredibly sleep deprived. My sleep schedule is so off now that 6 am became my bed time last night, not because I wanted it to be, but because it was necessary in order to find closure for an emotional situation I’ve been struggling with. Five hours of sleep later, I found the day pretty damn difficult and was rather disoriented. I stayed positive even when one negative thing after another kept happening; I was able to see that negative things were only happening because I couldn’t provide my day with the attention it needed. I got a parking ticket because I actually just forgot what day it was and didn’t pay a meter with the assumption that it was Sunday. I got lost because I was so tired I stopped paying attention. I started working with the wrong group at a business meeting because I zoned out when I was told where I should be going. And through all of that, I just reminded myself, “This was worth it. I needed to stay up last night, and all of this is only happening because I’m tired. I just need sleep.”
Eventually, though, there’s a final straw, and I found mine. I hit a wall when I was given some news and I crumbled to my floor (literally) and started bawling. Up until then, I had completely held it together. At first, I pretty much completely gave up. I felt entirely defeated, wanted to sabotage everything I have going for me, and decided that this was a sign that things just fucking suck.
And then I realized how stupid that was. Like, god, Hana, life happens.
Never, ever, EVER give up.
There can be positivity and life lessons created from every situation. I stood up, kept getting ready for my evening, and decided to kick life’s ass. I’m not going to be defeated. Yes, it really sucks when things don’t work out the way you plan. But really, when do things ever go the way we plan in life? We just have to roll with the punches and see what happens. Any opportunity can be made beautiful, even if it’s not what we initially expected.
I’m about to go have a beautiful night, followed by an amazing trip to New York, where I have no idea what I’m going to be doing with myself and will frolic around the city, completely pushing my comfort zone because I always plan every detail.
What are you doing tonight? I encourage to push yourself. Do that thing you’re afraid of doing. Don’t just sit there. Do what you love. Take that opportunity. Confront your fears. Don’t let anything defeat you.
And never ever give up.
Much love. <3
I woke up petrified.
I didn’t know where I was.
I’ve spent so much time wandering these past few weeks that my own bed is now unfamiliar, a stranger’s resting place with a vague understanding of familiar memory.
I’m a wanderer. I’ve never really been someone who’s had a physical home; the closest thing I came to that was in New York, and when I lived there, I came pretty close to suicide. So one could say there were a lot of problems with that. But there was something to be said for living entirely on my own.
For the last couple of months, I’ve been crashing with my parents. I’m really grateful to have a place to stay; I’m grateful that my parents’ house is an option. And that being said, it’s not my home and it’s not where I’m comfortable. My search for a new apartment has so far left me with unsuccessful results, and I’m still here. And that’s okay; transitions take time. But in the interim, I’m not sure what to do with myself.
Sleep is the most important factor of my stability, alongside eating. I have the understanding that as a musician, a regular sleep schedule is not something I’m going to get. But enough sleep is something I need to get to retain stability.
I haven’t been doing that as of late. It hasn’t been an intentional thing, I’ve just been out and about so much and experiencing new pieces of life that sleep has somehow gotten away from me.
I got home after three days of not being here and without intending to, fell asleep for seven hours. Closing my eyes for a minute turned into waking up at 12:41 am completely disoriented, confused, and terrified. I didn’t know where I was or who I was. The darkness confused me and my heart pounded. I was in more pain than I’ve been in since my surgery last year, and that pain hasn’t gone down. I haven’t been able to go back to sleep because the physical discomfort is so immense. It’s been many months since I’ve hurt quite this much. And while that reminds me how much better I’m doing now, it also makes me dread tomorrow, because I now have only two and half more hours before I have to get up for my day and I’m in far too much pain to be able to sleep more.
I like to think that to a certain extent, fear is a choice. I’m trying to choose not to be afraid. Right now, though, I wish I weren’t alone. I wish my walls would stop staring at me and my ceiling would stop threatening me with its finite limitations.
My body aches, and I’m afraid.
Lately I’ve been feeling pretty lost in my own head.
My thought processes have had a lot to do with how best to please other people and how to take the focus off of myself in a given situation; if I’m at a friend’s house, I casually just won’t bring up that I need to eat every few hours because I don’t want to be inconvenient or draw in unwanted attention.
There’s been a constant battle in my brain of how to re-focus my priorities - and, for that matter, how to figure out what my priorities even are anymore.
Spending so much time with myself has been incredibly productive and has also led to a lot of inner turmoil. I’m discovering new things about myself each day and I’m also finding myself constantly wanting to put my needs in the background and put others first.
Within this internal battle, I finally reached what’s turning into a life-changing realization: At some point, you have to just let it all go and live for you. All of the “stuff,” all of the external pieces of life that are constantly shifting - people come and go, living spaces change, careers and jobs change, but who you are and your core values, only you can determine that. As much as we as people are constantly changing within ourselves, we always have the ability to have a sense of self.
I’m finally beginning to accept this, and it’s had an incredible effect. I’m caring less about what other people think of me. I’m making the decisions that are best for me and my health and finding a balance between living my life and getting to experience life with others around me. I’ve opened myself up to trusting and finding comfort in the beautiful people around me, and I’m making some of the most beautiful connections I’ve found.
We as people are so intricate. We live with many small windows into our hearts, living in constant fear that if we let people in, the glass of those windows will shatter and we won’t be able to find the pieces. So we pull the curtains closed and don’t open ourselves up to the love and wonders that exist in this world.
I can’t promise that if you open yourself up, you won’t get hurt. That’s part of the human process, it seems to me - everybody seems to go through that at one point or another. But if you begin by loving yourself, taking care of yourself, and living for yourself, I can promise you that no matter what happens in your life, you will always be able to pick up and mend any fragmented pieces, no matter how long and painful it may be. You’re on your side, and that’s all you need. Anybody else who comes along - they’re just lucky to be part of your journey.
Much love. <3
It seems like there has been more and more controversy and discussion lately surrounding rape. What constitutes as rape? Was she asking for it? Whose fault was it? There’s a lot of “slut-shaming,” name-calling, bad-mouthing. There’s a lot of blame.
I hear people say no blame is being put on the rapists. I don’t know that I think that’s true. But it is definitely true that there is too much negativity surrounding the survivors. Male survivors are often laughed off and put down simply for being male. Female survivors are often immediately put down with the questions, “Well, were you drinking?” “Well, what were you wearing?”
I’ve had the unfortunate experience of being a victim of sexual assault multiple times in my life. I’ve been the victim of rape twice. Let me tell you something, I don’t remember what the fuck I was wearing, either time. I remember the feelings. I remember small bruises on my body that he didn’t realize he put there. I remember dropping out of school. What I was wearing? It never came up.
With social media comes a lot of amazing new pieces of life and a lot of hurtful ones, too. It’s amazing how much we can communicate - I love being able to write this blog, to see how much rape is a topic of discussion, to know that a movement is being made and changes are happening! On the other side of that, all over social media we see pictures of the “ideal” woman with comments all over her saying, “Damn girl, look at that booty,” or “them titties,” and it’s hard not to feel like we need to do that same thing to receive attention! It’s getting harder and harder to divide the internet world from the real world; the women posing in those pictures don’t necessarily dress like that in everyday life, but by seeing how people respond to them online, we feel pressured to look like that so we feel accepted and validated in our bodies.
Ladies, it’s just true that you are going to get attention if you dress in an attention-getting outfit. And that being said, that doesn’t give anybody the right to force their attention onto you in a physical way.
I’m going to talk about my two experiences with rape because I think what can sometimes happen is people who haven’t had personal experience with it don’t know that there can be several different types of experiences; it’s not necessarily a black-and-white male-forces-female situation.
The first time I was raped was by a very close friend who merely thought that my feeble “no” attempts were more of a cute, sexual, “oh, no, I don’t really want to,” trying to get him to want me more - when in fact, I really didn’t want to have sex. The sex was rough because he liked it that way, not because he was trying to hurt me, and when I ended up with bruises, it was a reminder of how much emotional pain I was in more than anything.
I’ve been in similar situations much more recently. It’s a mark of how much I’ve changed that when the guy has said, “Come on, baby, you know you want to,” I’ve said, “Fuck no, I really don’t, I’m out of here,” and I’ve left. I have no interest in being taken advantage of or being your sex toy, thank you. Sex should be entirely consensual, ladies and gents. If you’re not in the mood, you’re not in the mood, and you are more than free to express that. Anybody not willing to listen is somebody not worth putting yourself inside or having inside you. That’s a beautiful connection to share with someone who truly respects you.
That friend unfortunately ripped that connection away from me. It wasn’t brutal, it wasn’t forceful. My memory of it has altered over time; I’ve felt it doing so. A few years back, it seemed worse than it was. I pictured it being painful, torturous - it made it easier that it had happened. I felt like I should’ve been able to stop it if it was just sex. But I was seventeen, vulnerable, already traumatized, and a human being. It didn’t need to be brutal physically for it to have a brutal, emotional effect on my health. It didn’t need to be brutal physically for it to be rape. It was not consensual sex. It was rape.
The second time I was raped was brutal. He was drunk, I was not. I begged him to stop, he wouldn’t. He was my friend, and in that moment, he didn’t care. He did things to me that have continued to scar me and have sometimes caused what should be enjoyable sexual experiences to turn very triggering very fast. He left a handprint on my neck that kept me wearing a scarf to work for a week pretending I had *giggle* “Oh just a hickey!”
He was so drunk that he didn’t notice me crying and when he finished, he rolled over, vomited, and passed out. I did not sleep at all. I curled up in a corner of the bed and did not move all night. In the morning, he didn’t remember a thing and I don’t know that he does to this day.
I still have a lot of self-blame for that, even though that was hands-down rape. I tell myself that getting raped in the first place is what caused me to start hanging out with guys like my second rapist.
The biggest problem here, though, on a larger level than how it affects me emotionally, is that somewhere in these guys’ brains, they thought this was okay behavior. They’ve each moved on with their lives, who knows what the hell they’re up to, and I am still incredibly affected. This happens to any survivor of trauma - it can take years to work through things like this!
The core issue is how do we get it into the head of the rapist to not rape in the first place? These young college boys, these women that don’t get a lot of credit because it’s so often said that “women can’t rape men,” and then male victims have even more trouble coming out as survivors - World, what do we have to do to rid the initial thought that gets into someone’s head that it is ever okay to put someone else in the position of having non-consensual sex?
How do we fix this?
The government campaign is right, it is on us. It’s on us to find ways to stop the idea of non-consensual sex being okay. It’s on us to strongly define those lines of what’s okay and what isn’t. Your friend is hesitant and isn’t sure? Then maybe you guys should wait for a time when you’re both sure. You’ve been drinking? Then maybe sober the fuck up. I know it isn’t this simple, but these are the larger-picture things we need to be thinking about if we are truly going to take it on as it being on us to stop this.
I also highly encourage checking out Abby Reads’ video on the topic:
Lately I’ve been feeling pretty hopeless.
My immune system isn’t strong enough to support itself right now. The combination of emotional stressors and physical health problems has finally taken enough of a toll that I have a cold-turning-sinus-infection on top of everything else.
My ass was handed to me yesterday. I was reminded how much of an amateur I am in the industry I’ve put myself into. I have a lot to think about in the coming months as to whether or not I’m really ready to commit to being a full time musician given all of my health shit, and that’s horrifying for me because music is all I’ve ever wanted.
The constant sickness is hard and it’s going to get worse before it gets better.
So what does one do in this situation? I’ve said before that I’m lucky enough to have the opportunity to take time off and just focus on my health, and I’m amazingly fortunate for that - but that’s not real life. So how does one find balance?
After what was probably too much dwelling, I came to rest on what I think is an incredibly important realization:
There is always something.
In life, there will never stop being obstacles. Right now, I’m struggling with physical health issues. In the past, my bipolar was so prominent in my life that I couldn’t function. Then I suffered so severely from PTSD that I couldn’t function. Last year, I had surgery and was incapacitated for a few months.
There. Is. Always. Something.
If we let the ups and downs life throws at us get in the way of becoming who we want to be, of getting where we want to go and following our dreams, we’re never going to get anywhere. I’m coming to learn that life has a lot to do with figuring out how to work with the pieces that come with it, the good and the bad. How do I present myself to the world on a good day, on a bad day? How do I make it through this performance when my blood sugar is plummeting? How do I motivate myself to keep going when I feel alone?
For awhile, I was waiting for the day I would wake up and not have those questions anymore. Performance conditions would be perfect, all my health issues would be gone, I wouldn’t feel alone because I’d be 100% content with sitting in solitude.
But that’s just not life. Even if all of those things were attainable, by the time I attain them, there will be more issues and problems and shit to face.
There is always something.
Ask yourself: What do you want? What have you been putting off? What have you told yourself you’ll get to later - you’re just too busy dealing with life stuff right now to get to it?
Stop putting it off. Live your life, you beautiful soul. It doesn’t mean it’s going to be easy. Sometimes, life stuff is going to get in the way and your dreams or goals will need to sit in a box on the top shelf for a week while you sort out the kinks. But the great thing about boxes is they can always be reopened.
Maybe my timeline for being a well-known, successful musician is going to take longer than I’d planned, because that pesky life stuff is here and it’s not budging right now. Maybe I do need to take a couple of months on the slower side to focus on my health. But I’ve realized this world isn’t black and white, and just because my priorities may shift doesn’t mean I’m going to be held back from making it where I want to go.
Find your motivation. Find what pushes you to move forward and follow your dreams each day. The hurdles life throws at you never have to stop you, and believe me, you are strong enough that they never will.
Much love. <3
I’m getting really fucking tired of this.
I go back and forth on my mentality about my physical health. I’m either tired of it or I decide, “Man, I’m so lucky, I’m in a position where I have the liberty to take a step back from real life and focus on my physical wellbeing.” If I wanted to, I could stop working entirely and focus on my physical health because I have that kind of support. I would never actually do that because I’m not the type of person who’s content with that, but I’m very lucky to be in that position if that were ever necessary.
On those days where I feel lucky, I think to myself, “Fantastic! I’m going to take some time to mend my body, learn even more about myself” - as though I haven’t become overly self-aware already - “and slowly but surely build my musical career.”
Today is NOT one of those days.
You know when I feel lucky? When I’m at least able to function.
You know what feels impossible? The idea of getting better, of learning about my body and my inner self, of building my career, when I’m this fucking sick.
I woke up this morning shaking, on top of several incredibly solid, pointy objects that I don’t remember having fallen asleep on and I don’t know how I slept on top of throughout the night. My head feels like a watermelon and the nausea is unbearable. I feel weak. I feel like if I stood up, I would come crashing back down. Yeah, I haven’t tried standing up yet.
This. This type of thing, this isn’t going to work for me. I have things to do today, I have engagements to get through. Right now they seem impossible because everything is harder when you’re sick.
I think the worst thing about all of this is I was feeling better when I wasn’t eating. This is such reinforcement to my eating disorder. Since I started eating again, I have packed on pounds. I eat such a healthy diet, but it doesn’t matter - my body just isn’t used to the food right now and it won’t digest it. I’ve been feeling dizzier, more fatigued, more irritable, and more nauseous.
Why would I want to keep eating.
Right now, I feel like I’m between a rock and a hard place.
I’m not digging it.
Okay, let’s do this.
I said I’d write a blog a few days ago and things got crazy, as can happen in life.
I have a lot of things I want to talk about and it’s all too much for one blog. A video of a rape victim publicly coming out at age 52 really hit me, and I have so many things to say about it. I am really, really struggling with an eating disorder and I’ve been in denial about that. The stable factors in my life have all been shifted and the only consistent thing now is me, little Hana, locked in her own head. I’m learning to be my own rock, and it’s painful.
And all of these are things I would really like to talk about.
And that being said, this is my topic of the day:
I don’t entirely remember what I wanted out of this blog when I first started writing it. I know I wanted to reach people. I wanted to begin sharing my story. Beyond that, I don’t know that there was any end goal. As I’ve written more and more, I’ve come to find that we all struggle with similar problems. They may have different details, but at the core, we are all so very much the same because we’re all human.
I’ve found out pieces of people’s lives that I never would have suspected. Friends and acquaintances who have had the picture-perfect life story on paper (or in this case, on computer screen, because who uses anything besides facebook anymore?) have come to me to tell me stories of their troubles, traumas, and experiences.
Nobody in this world deserves to feel alone, and I’ve been seeing too much of that lately. There was a time when I was writing more often and getting questions all the time from people I knew, from people I didn’t know, from anonymous writers, asking for help or advice or just sharing their stories.
And I realize now what it is, ultimately, that this blog is for.
It’s for bringing together the people who feel lost. It’s for sharing stories with those who think they live their experiences alone. It’s for spreading love in a world where we’re constantly battling hateful words and actions.
You never need to feel alone. It’s time we do what we can to come together and take preventative actions. This is a community, and you always have friends here. If I can’t answer a question for you, I will anonymously share it. It’s amazing how many people have come together before to give advice to the anonymous-question-askers of tumblr.
Whether you want to straight up send a message saying, “Hi, this is who I am, this is my experience, and I need someone to talk to,” or whether you want to keep your identity hidden and post an anonymous question or even a rant to get your feelings out on any given day, this is why this blog is here.
You. Are. Never. Alone.
There is always love.
For the first time that I can ever recall in my life, I feel and felt normal.
And before any of my wise-joke-cracking friends say it, yes, I know, there’s no actual basis for “normal.” But hear me out.
I have lived a life filled with situations that constantly have excess emotion attached to them. I’m a very emotional person and I’ve been through a lot of trauma. It’s “normal,” in a sense, that I’d have emotional reactions to what would seem to most people to be everyday situations.
I realized recently that life is about perspective. I choose the perspective I have in any given situation, and that affects how I deal with it and react to it. Lately, I’ve had a difficult time changing my perspective. I’ve been in a funk, I’ve felt depressed, I’ve sabotaged myself, and I’ve felt horrible. I’ve been saying to myself, “Come on, Hana, just change your perspective about this,” but I haven’t been able to get myself to do it.
Last night, I made the change I needed. I settled on an apartment. I know where I’m moving and I no longer feel stationary and stuck.
I decided to celebrate alone. I’ve been working on becoming one with myself and feeling whole within my own mind. I made some dairy-soy-gluten-corn-free mac n’ cheese and had a couple glasses of wine.
And it was fantastic.
I felt. So. Normal.
It wasn’t lonely, drinking-myself-to-sleep wine. It wasn’t wine with stigma attached to it. It wasn’t a glass that I stared at thinking, “Oh god, what am I doing, I’m sabotaging myself, oh no!” It was having an amazing evening with an amazing meal, an amazing drink, and some amazing episodes of Parks of Recreation.
I also sent some pretty stupid text messages, which is part of the reason I don’t drink - they seriously seemed like a good idea at the time. They weren’t. I don’t know why I thought they were. Inhibitions were down, I guess. But I don’t regret them because they were a normal part of making choices.
This morning, I went on the treadmill. I ate breakfast again - it’s been awhile since I’ve done that. I had Dr. Pepper and worked for a few hours.
I had a normal morning.
And that’s more significant than any emotional day I’ve had in weeks.
To me, it’s a sign of what’s coming. A healthy, happy future with your average mistakes, choices, ups and downs, happy things, sad things, and wonderful pieces of the world.
Well, I’m off to do more normal things. Till next time!
Tonight, I caved.
Tonight, I would have rather felt anything in the world than everything I was feeling.
Tonight, I bought past trigger foods and took them home.
Tonight, it was 1 am and I stopped at a 24 hour gas station and broke my own heart.
Tonight, I ate almost the entire bag. It was about 600 calories worth of food.
Tonight, I realized that I need to move on. I need to move forward. I need to stop hurting. I need to tell him what I’m thinking. I need to say I’m sorry. I need to keep hoping because right now I feel hopeless.
There are a lot of things that feel like needs right now.
Tonight, I was so overwhelmed, I knew I wouldn’t get home without stopping for something. It doesn’t taste as good as I remember. I don’t really want to be engaging in this behavior. I really don’t. It’s not a part of my life anymore. It wasn’t even binging; it was just kind of snacking. It’s like, the amount of food you’d have when you hang out with friends and watch movies.
But it was the fact that it was 1 am and I was alone and hiding in my room.
It’s the fact that I will hurt so much in about a half hour, and more tomorrow.
It’s the fact that I’m running away from my commitments and am struggling to maintain my life.
I need to be honest about all of this, because I don’t think that hiding serves any purpose. I need to accept what I’ve done and move on. This doesn’t have to become a pattern, and I don’t want it to.
It just hurts so much that I got to the point where I hurt enough that I wanted to drown my feelings.
And that’s what I did.
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